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Message-ID: <30568asstr$991480202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: tmquin@NS_attglobal.net (Thomas M Quin)
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Vanishing Point Part 9 (M/ff, B and D, Kidnap)
Date: Sat,  2 Jun 2001 07:10:02 -0400
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                                     STANDARD DISCLAIMER
                                     ===================

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and 
has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is
found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author.

The authors explicitly prohibits.

1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form. 

2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express 
    permission.

3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the
    written permission of the author.

This work is copyright TM Quin and timidt 2000

All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Timid and Quin 2000

  timidt@hotmail.com                           tmquin@attglobal.net
*****************************************************************

			Vanishing Point Part 9 (Ben)
		============================

      I slept like a God, one warm, naked, beautiful woman nuzzled
      into my side, another tied to a chair beginning her first night
      of slavery. It might be possible to get better than this but I
      doubt it. All these late night fun and games meant that we
      slept until quite late into the morning but that was ok -- it
      allowed the families and early risers plenty of time to exit
      the motel before we had to think about moving our little
      "package" out.

      For part of the morning I just dozed, enjoying the proximity
      and softness of Thelma's sweet compliant body and listening to
      the occasional grunt from Liz. Eventually it was time to go, so
      with some regrets I slapped Thelma's ass and started into the
      day.

      We got cleaned up and dressed first, leaving Liz to do what she
      had been doing all night, squirming and grunting as the
      machines worked her over. I doubt that blindfolded and wearing
      the headset she even realized it was morning let alone that we
      were up and about.

      I used the bathroom first while Thelma assembled some
      sandwiches from the supplies in our cooler. I had intended to
      let Liz starve for a few days -- it's amazing what a woman will
      do for a cheese sandwich when she hasn't eaten for a week --
      but sitting there watching her I had a change of heart. Today
      she could eat and build up a little strength before I took her
      world from her completely.

      While Thelma was in the bathroom I just sat and watched Liz as
      she sat grunting and moaning to herself. She was saying
      something, muffled by the gag I couldn't make it all out but
      the sound of her name rang out loud and clear. She was
      concentrating on fighting the walkman, dedicating as much of
      her consciousness as still existed to denying the statement
      that she was a slave. I smiled and watched as her butt squirmed
      against the constant attention of the vibrator. I don't think
      she'd realized that it was the physical battle she needed to
      win at this stage. Her nipples were hard and erect, her body
      covered in sweat, the musky smell of her juices filled the air
      and frigid little Elizabeth -- the control freak--- had
      completely lost control of her body. In addition, even the
      battle she had tried to fight, the one for possession of her
      mind, was not a complete victory. Oh, she was chanting whatever
      it was she had dreamed up in place of the recording but in one
      out of five times, she was saying the message from the walkman,
      even though I doubted her conscious mind even realized it.

      Thelma came out of the bathroom drying her hair.

      "She's a strong one isn't she Master?" she asked.

      I laughed, "not as strong as you are my pet, not nearly as
      strong."

      Thelma blinked. "But she is resisting?" she asked.

      Standing I kissed her forehead. "Let's play a game," I said,
      "we'll both write down what we think she'll say when we ungag
      her. The one of us that comes closest will be pleasured by both
      the looser and Liz tonight. Deal?"

      Thelma's eyes sparkled, I knew what little trick she would want
      from me if she won.

      "Agreed, Master!" she said and we both wrote our answers on
      pieces of paper. Folding the strips, we exchanged them and then
      I reached for Liz's gag.

      =============================================================

      She accepted the juice but that was no surprise -- after
      chanting all night her throat was bound to be sore. However,
      after that she tried to ignore me. A sharp twist of one of her
      erect nipples soon put paid to that idea.

      "I'm very sorry. I didn't know you were addressing me. My name
      is Elizabeth. I did need to speak to you. You understand this
      is not a hopeless situation." I think her intention was to
      sound imperial and relaxed. It actually came out as calm but
      strained, high pitched, wavering but not broken. I nodded my
      approval. It was a pity that after all going to all that effort
      the sentence itself made little sense.

      She licked her lips. "As I'm sure you're aware, it would not be
      in my best interest to make this little episode wide spread
      knowledge so I will pay you for any of your expenses and we can
      go our separate ways." There was a desperation in the sentence,
      she was fighting the vibrator, the many hours without sleep,
      trying to stay in control. I smiled at Thelma who was looking
      up wide eyed from my note. Guess who would be pleasuring who
      tonight?

      I was surprised when Liz turned down breakfast. That was a
      mistake she would soon regret. I had intended to let her have
      only one meal for the next few days. As she said she didn't
      want breakfast I could only assume that she didn't want
      anything. I imagined how desperate she would be by the time she
      got another meal. The next time the little bitch ate it would
      be only after paying a most humiliating forfeit.

      I took Liz to the bathroom and allowed her a few moments to
      freshen up. Meanwhile, Thelma brought the camper closer to the
      Motel and parked it with the side door facing the door of our
      room.

      I prepared Liz for the brief trip to the camper. A rope hobble
      reduced her chances of movement and a leash knotted tightly
      around her pretty throat stopped any ideas of rebellion. After
      giving her another Coke I replaced the penis gag in her mouth
      then added a layer of bandage to muffle her further. A quick
      twist of a nipple found Liz silent enough and once Thelma had
      moved the last of our bags on board we were ready for the main
      event.

      When the time came it was almost too easy, I marched her out
      lifted her into the camper and we were done. Total time in the
      open, about 2 seconds, long enough for her to whimper out a
      little muffled scream but with zero chance that anyone would
      have seen her.

      I let Thelma drive while I worked on our guest's comfort. First
      up I replaced the hobble with a spreader bar, just to keep her
      guessing as to what would happen next. I tied the spreader back
      to her wrist ropes making a tight hog tie that left her legs
      open and her little cunt defenseless. I figured the feeling of
      open vulnerability would work on her over time, compound her
      feelings of helplessness and loss of control.

      I let her relax a little. I had a few plans once we hit the
      nearest rest stop, but for now I was content to just leave her
      alone with her helplessness. I had one parting gift however. I
      got the salve from a herbalist I knew, mustard oil, olive oil
      and a couple of other ingredients I'd never even heard of. The
      ointment is hot and applied to the skin it burns and itches
      without causing any permanent damage. The stuff sucks up
      moisture, the damper it gets the hotter it gets and of course
      it just loves sweaty skin. Using a rubber glove I smeared some
      of the preparation onto Liz's sensitive little nipples. I was
      rewarded by immediate groans and muffled cries of protest.
      Smiling I watched while her nipples became pink and very erect.
      I figured that would distract her for a while. For now I left
      her hog-tied in the center of the camper, later after we'd
      played a little I'd introduce her to a couple of the camper's
      more interesting design features.

      The camper looks old and run down, an illusion that costs a lot
      to maintain. Mechanically the vehicle is a good twenty years
      younger than the outer skin suggests and it has the heart of a
      muscle truck. As a result even towing the covered Merc we made
      good time. Thelma continued to drive while I watched Liz though
      the curtain that divided the living area from the cab. At first
      she struggled, perhaps hoping to find a weakness in bonds or
      gag. Later when that proved futile she dozed for a while. I
      needed her to sleep just a little, enough that her subconscious
      mind had time to work on my orders but not so much that she
      could get any refreshment. When I figured she'd slept enough I
      returned and slipped the teasing vibrator back inside her.
      Surprise number one was how damp she was even after a couple of
      hours without direct stimulation. Surprise number two was how
      she moaned and quaked as I pushed the intruder deeper into her
      violated pussy.

      Yes, Liz's body was learning its new role even as her mind
      fought to resist. Smiling I replaced the headphones and started
      the walkman. We would see how long she lasted this time.
      Walking back to the cab I paused in the doorway and watched
      while my little control freak rocked and quivered helplessly in
      her bondage.

      This time, the message she was chanting was mine.

      I sat in the passenger seat and looked over at Thelma. One
      thing you could say about my little slave was that she has a
      really expressive face. At that moment she was wearing her cute
      but puzzled look. I decided to help her out.

      "Ok slave, what's on your mind?"

      Thelma cleared her throat. "How did you know Master? How did
      you know that slave Liz would try to buy her freedom?"

      "Ah the bet," I said, "I was wondering when you'd ask about
      that."

      Thelma nodded and waited patiently. I feel I'm a little of a
      magician, I hate to give my secrets away, but Thelma had been
      such a good girl I decided to give an exception just this once.

      "Ok, let's start with a bit of basic behavioral science." I
      began, "When faced with a crisis situation most people fall
      back on what they know best. It's called the automatic
      response. Sometimes that response is appropriate, sometimes it
      isn't. In fact a *hell* of a lot of money goes into training
      people like air crew and firemen so that their automatic
      response is to act rationally under situations where acting by
      instinct would be disastrous." I glanced over at my little
      slave, "You ok so far?"

      Thelma nodded, but I could see her puzzled frown was deepening.

      "Good! Now little miss power bitch in there is an advertising
      exec, that means the things she does *every day* is make
      decisions and make *deals.* So here she is, unable to move, any
      decision she can make nullified by ropes and tape, so when the
      opportunity arises she goes with what she knows. She attempts
      to deal. You understand?"

      Thelma bit her bottom lip. "I...I think so Master."

      I rolled my eyes. "Ok slave, something puzzles you, spill it!"

      Thelma blushed. "Well Master," she said, "When this slave said
      that slave Liz was strong you said she wasn't as strong as this
      unworthy one. Yet, slave Liz went through the night without
      buckling. This little one was happily chanting that you were my
      Master by morning...."

      I laughed, Thelma looked surprised.

      "Tell me Thelma, were you my slave, really? Would you have done
      anything I ordered that first morning?"

      Thelma thought for a moment, "This slave had not learnt her
      place at that time Master. I doubt she would have obeyed."

      "Exactly!" I agreed, "the sleep deprivation doesn't make
      someone a slave, it aids training but that's all. You
      surrendered to it, you said whatever I wanted you to say just
      to get some rest. In short, you were strong enough to sacrifice
      the small things to protect the big ones." I looked through the
      curtain at where Liz quaked and chanted. "Little Liz in there
      can't do that. A control freak's problem is that they can't
      afford to loose control of anything, no matter how small. She
      is fighting the indoctrination tape, burning off resistance she
      would be better off saving until later. She thinks that she has
      a plan, that if she can keep control she can ride out the
      storm. In truth all she is doing is making her end more
      certain. When her control finally crumbles she will have
      nothing left, I doubt even her personality will survive."

      I settled back, "Liz is an interesting one. You see, the
      advertising industry spends more on psychological and
      psychometrics research than all the mental health people
      combined. She knows a lot of fringe psychological facts and she
      believes that knowledge will somehow protect her."

      Thelma looked puzzled again. "Won't it Master?" she asked.

      I laughed, "Thelma, I'm a ballistics expert, a master gunsmith,
      I've even given expert testimony in court for a couple of
      firearms cases. Do you think that all those facts somehow make
      me bulletproof?"

      "I suppose not," she agreed.

      "Five years ago I had a Professor of experimental psychology
      bound and gagged on the very rug our little Liz is wiggling on.
      The woman's car had broken down and she felt more at ease
      accepting a lift from a man and a woman. My slave at the time
      was Gillian, you remember me speaking of her?"

      Thelma nodded, "She preceded slave Louise who preceded this
      unworthy one."

      I smiled. "Well, that professor spent the first week telling me
      why all of this stuff wouldn't work. She told me about this
      study, that study, why coercive conditioning couldn't work. How
      the CIA had tried drugs, sensory deprivation, electrodes in the
      brain, and nothing had worked."

      "Did she manage to resist indoctrination Master?" Thelma asked.

      "Well, she was the one who chloroformed you, why don't you tell
      me?"

      Thelma looked amazed, "You mean that slave Louise was...."

      I nodded, "Yes, Louise was that pushy little professor. For a
      week she held out telling me that it would never --could
      never-- work. Two weeks later she was sucking my cock like she
      had been born to it. You can ask her about it yourself the next
      time you see her."

      Louise was at home caring for our two children, Mark and Emily.
      Looking at her today its hard to imagine the frigid, tight
      assed little academic we picked up that night. I felt my heart
      fill with love. Hell, this Stockholm syndrome stuff isn't all
      single sided you know, it's impossible to keep a slave for a
      long time without developing feelings for her, especially if
      she's the mother of your children.

      Smiling with recollection I glanced over. Thelma still seemed a
      little shocked. I think part of her fully believes that she
      chose to submit to me, that perhaps someone else would have
      resisted more. In truth she had no choice, from the moment we
      picked her up her life as a slave was certain. Not only are my
      basic techniques sound, Louise has worked long and hard
      perfecting them.

      "There's a little rest stop coming up in a few miles," I said
      gently, "If it's empty pull in and find us a quiet spot at the
      back."

      =============================================================
      I had Thelma get ready before I did anything to Liz.

      The captive rolled on the floor moaning and making some attempt
      to get our attention. I think she was sensing us though our
      footfalls. If we stopped moving for any period she went back to
      chanting from the tape. The occasional return of her alternate
      chant showed she was still trying to think for herself but that
      was waning. The tape, a stupid little pre training gimmick,
      seemed like it was about to claim its first victim.

      When we where ready I lifted Liz onto one of the chairs and
      removed the blindfold.

      Liz blinked for a moment, then her eyes widened in horror.
      Thelma looked good in Elizabeth's expensive suit, far better
      than Liz did in fact. We had taken time to get everything
      right, from the highly polished court shoes on her feet to the
      cut of the honey brown wig that covered her own red locks. The
      makeup came from Liz's vanity case and was applied as the older
      woman had worn it yesterday, hell we'd even smudged the mascara
      as if she'd been crying. The Hermes, retired from it's gagging
      duties, had been carefully washed and tied around Thelma's
      neck. I nodded and Thelma did a slow twirl, allowing our wide
      eyed captive to take in all the details.

      Thelma looked almost identical to the way Elizabeth had the day
      before. I say almost because we had been forced to make a
      couple of additions to the outfit. One was the pair of black
      leather female driving gloves we'd found in Liz's purse, very
      fashionable and of course they cut down on any fingerprint
      evidence. The second addition was a pair of Raybans, again from
      Liz's purse, which would help Thelma look a little more like
      the older woman.

      "Think she'll pass?" I asked. Of course Liz couldn't answer,
      but she was able to give her trademark disgusted snort.

      I smiled, "I think so too." I turned to Thelma.

      "Take the route I gave you. Those roads have automatic speed
      cameras on the legs I marked. Try to break a limit or two but
      don't get pulled over. When the highway patrol process the film
      tomorrow we'll have another breadcrumb for them to follow."

      I turned to the wide eyed Liz. "It'll cost you a couple of
      penalty points I'm afraid," I said with mock regret, "but I'm
      sure it'll get the right kind of attention."

      We would be out of the state by tonight so I wasn't worried by
      the police. The Merc would have to stop for fuel at least
      twice. I had chosen places which had automated pumps, the
      credit card transactions and the blurry security camera
      pictures would add a few more crumbs to our ghost trail.

      "Meet me at the rendezvous tonight at twenty hundred hours." I
      said, "Be a good girl and tonight little Lizzie learns how to
      eat pussy."

      "Yes Master!" Thelma said, flashing Liz a hungry look as she
      left.

      I turned to my shocked captive. "Now for you my pet," I said to
      Liz," I'm afraid not having Thelma's help means I can't afford
      the luxury of keeping you out in the open any more. Still I'm
      sure you can make do."

      We have a couch like structure built against one of the walls
      near the table. During the day it's a couch, at night a single
      bunk and the area underneath was originally for blanket
      storage.

      I say originally because now it has another use.

      I pressed on a couple of concealed latches and the top of the
      couch opened. Inside there was a small space, roughly human
      shaped and heavily padded. A set of tubes and straps showed
      where the slave went, feeding tubes, breathing tubes, waste
      disposal tubes, in fact everything needed to keep a slave under
      wraps and under control for several days unattended.

      Liz's eyes widened and she shook her head wildly. I laughed, as
      if she had any choice. Normally I would only use this setup if
      I needed to leave a slave alone for a few days for some reason.
      I had a few more humane places around the camper I could use if
      I just needed to keep a girl out of sight.

      However in Liz's case I wanted her to experience a little of
      what it would be like to be completely helpless. I was hoping
      that a taste would be all that was necessary for her to play
      ball. I showed her the inflatable bladder that would fill her
      mouth and the openings that would allow for an airway and a
      feeding tube to be inserted. I showed the catheters that would
      take the waste from her body. Soon I would take control of
      everything from her, even her most basic body function. Her
      tear filled eyes were wide and begging. Reaching up I released
      the gag and let her speak.

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